She Ate the Fort
by hyacinthian
Summary: Nonsex makes people do some crazy things. Spoilers for Some Kind of Miracle. [MarkAddison]


The first week he goes without sex resembles hell in its most delightful form. Not the hell that she reigns over, but the one that loves to throw rocks at him. That week, he comes face to face with every kind of temptation that exists in the world. Three nurses, all on separate occasions, try to flirt with him. He has seven—count them! Seven!—female patients who are absolutely assured that waltzing into the plastic surgeon's office in the most ridiculous revealing outfits is a good idea. And when he returns to his hotel room and turns on the TV for some mindless drivel to take his mind off the sex, some weird combination of frustrated, tired button pushing has brought him porn. Obviously, the universe is working against him.

The second week without sex is a little better. He's substituted sex with gum chewing. This obviously is wreaking incredible emotional and mental issues on him. So therefore, once it is officially sixty-days-and-one-hour, he will jump Addison's bones and they will have sex as many times as he is capable of without dying. That's his plan, in all its shining glory. The second week without sex, he sees the outlines of Addison's smirk begin to lose definition. _See?_, he thinks. _I can go without sex for sixty days. _He grins at her and quirks an eyebrow, sending an invisible question her way. _But can you?_

Six days later, he sees Addison begin to show signs of nervous behavior. She's a bit more on edge lately, easily angered or annoyed. He gives her the biggest multi-pack of chewing gum he can find. She picks it up, stares at it, and stares at him. In that order. "Mark," she starts. "Why are you giving me gum?" She pauses, and he can see the cogs of her mind begin to mesh and move. "Are you trying to imply that I have bad breath?" This is obviously the third stage of Addison anger, what with the non-sex-having fast-forwarding past the first and second stage.

He just smirks at her, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Trust me. It's for the lots more non-sex-having." He turns to go. "We still have forty days." He winks at her and leaves just as her head hits the desk hard.

The next ten days, he goes about his business, does his job, goes through his routines without any alarm. There have been no countertop-leaning, busty women who have strayed his direction, no flirting, no alcohol (as it is often the precursor to sex). Maybe this is what Mormonism feels like, he thinks. Except he's heard that Mormonism involves no caffeine, and he couldn't possibly give that up. He reaches for his coffee cup and heads toward the cafeteria. That's when he sees Addison.

Addison Forbes Montgomery, the greatest neo-natal surgeon in the country, who was apparently building a fort around herself with Girl Scout Cookie boxes.

He does the appropriate double-take.

He walks up to her and sets his coffee cup down on the table, and tries to push some of the familiar purple boxes aside. "Addie?" She pushes them back to their original positions.

"Yes, Mark?"

"Addie, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're going crazy from lack of sex."

She sighs. "Mark, you're obviously missing the surrealist point of this."

He just stares at the pretty purple and green boxes. "Excuse me," he starts, suppressing his slight laughter. "Did you say the surrealist point?"

"Yes, I did."

"There's a surrealist point to this?"

"Yes, there is."

"Well, what is this?"

"This is quite possibly the greatest structure I have ever crafted with these two hands besides the sand castle I made at the beach when I was four before the waves killed it."

"Addison?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't think it's weird that you made a fort out of Girl Scout Cookie boxes?"

He hears a ripping sound, followed by crinkling noises.

"Addie?"

He hears a muffled response. He pushes the boxes aside and sees her, Caramel Delite in hand. "Obviously," she starts, "I needed something to replace sex."

"Girl Scout Cookies?" It is as much amazement as it is stupefaction.

"Those seven-year-olds gouged me," she mutters. "Who charges 3.50 for a box?"

"Addie, how many boxes did you buy?"

"A lot."

"Why?"

"This is a war, Mark. A war against my ovaries, and obviously, I need chocolate and caramel to overpower their sense of direction."

He looks at her uncertainly. "Maybe you should scrub in on a surgery."

She looks down at her cookie. "Maybe after this cookie."

The next ten days are a merry-go-round of activity. Addison catches him in a supply closet with an intern, who is staring up at him with eyes as large as saucers. She was obviously blonde and from Nebraska, Addison comments. He doesn't say anything. Addison had strutted into the supply closet without as much as a whisper and dragged him out by his ear like the stereotypical fifties mom. Once they were back at the nurses station and the intern had squirreled away, embarrassed, Addison offered him a Twizzler.

"Addison?"

"This no-sex thing is doing wonders for my candy addiction." To prove her point, she bites down on the Twizzler and pulls. That is not the image he needs right now.

He leans in close to her ear. "You are an instrument of evil." As he runs towards a bathroom, she gleefully cackles behind him.

"They call me Satan!"

Three days after that incident, he catches her in an on-call room with Karev, who is quite possibly the most annoying intern he's faced. He walks into the supply closet, barely noticing Karev's shirtless state, and pulls Addison out of the room by the arm. Karev struts back out, like a chicken, minutes later, demanding to know what his problem is.

"Excuse me?"

"Dr. Montgomery and I were talking about something important," the intern argues.

"Okay."

"You didn't have any right to do that."

Since Mark has had no sex in what can only be classified as a very, very, very, inhumanly long time, and has replaced sex with sugar, his comeback is a little weak. "This is an A and B matter, Karev, so see your way out of it." He pulls Addison with him as he heads towards the cafeteria.

"What happened to your Girl Scout Cookie stash?"

"I ate them all."

"You _what_?" He eyes her figure.

"Sadly, yes."

"You ate them _all_?"

"Look, for 3.50 a box, those kids gouge you. There were like six cookies in a box."

"It's been a week!"

"I know."

"You had like twenty-eight boxes!"

"I know."

"Addison, how?"

"This can only be attributed to the non-sex," she grumbles.

"Hey!" he calls. She turns around. "This was your idea!"

The last two weeks and three days of non-sex, his television is tuned to the Disney Channel, where there can obviously be no sexual innuendos of any kind, he takes three showers a day, and tries to avoid the female species in general, except for Addison, whom he must ensure is also partaking in the non-sex. He calls her at one a.m.

"Addie?"

"Mark," she grumbles. "It's one a.m."

"You weren't sleeping."

She sighs. "No, I wasn't."

"Just remember that the non-sex was your idea."

"I know."

"I'm doing this as a testament to our history and to my feelings for you."

"I know."

"So obviously, the sexual reward for this great act must be…great."

"Mark," she grumbles.

"Addison."

"I don't want to do the non-sex."

"I know."

"Mark."

"Yeah?"

"Is that the Disney Channel in the background?"

"Do you know how hard it is to find something that has no sexual undertone or overtone at all?"

"Very hard?"

"Yeah, see, that can be a sexual something-tone."

"Sorry."

"Yeah."

"At least we only have two weeks left."

"Yeah."

"We're in it to win it."

"In it to win it."

"I'm going to bed before I spontaneously combust from the war I'm fighting with my ovaries."

"How is that going, by the way?"

"I think this war has caused me to gain three pounds."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, you could always burn it off through all the sex we'll eventually be having."

"I'm going to bed now."

He hangs up.

He's speaking to an intern about something when his pager suddenly goes off. Crinkling his nose in annoyance, he goes to call the number, and somehow ends up receiving directions to a supply closet.

Where Addison jumps his bones.

"Addison?"

"It's been sixty days," she pants, as she begins to take off his clothing, "and one minute."

"You've been counting?"

"My ovaries were."

He kisses her roughly. "I like how your ovaries think," he says, as he pushes her up against the door. "Remind me to buy your ovaries Girl Scout Cookies."

She groans. "No more Girl Scout Cookies," she murmurs, just as his lips glide down her throat. "Ever."

He laughs.


End file.
